TO BE MANLY & ANTI-RAPE
How to Merge Anti-Violence Rhetoric and Modern Masculinity
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ost men don't rape. As far as ending sexual violence is concerned, however, this is obviously not enough. In general, men need to be more involved in the work of ending rape. Sexual violence affects everyone, not only the immediate victims, but their friends, family, coworkers everyone. Men need to be involved because we can't begin to address sexual violence if only half the community will recognize its effects. For men who have had no reason to evaluate their privileged position in society, it is difficult to recognize this need; recognition requires self-examination and a great leap in empathy. We ask men to change, to become “liberated” or “enlightened.” Seriously, we've caught ourselves using patronizing language like this before. As a member of Columbia Men Against Violence (CMAV), I've used it myself.

Encouraging individuals to change is a big part of what CMAV does. The motto of CMAV is, after all, “Changing the Way Men Think.” However, sometimes I feel as if the emphasis on change becomes confrontational, as if we're saying there's something wrong with how most men think and act. Or perhaps it's the idea that men, who are rarely the victims of sexual assault, have a greater distance to cover in becoming actively anti-rape. Unintentionally, this kind of thinking is divisive. It becomes “us versus them”: we are the enlightened anti-violence activists, and they are the men who won't assault anyone, but who might laugh at a sexist joke.

According to these media images, men by nature aren't sensitive. In contradistinction, then, men in the anti-violence movement aren't manly.

There are some standard behavioral expectations of a “liberated” man: he should be a good listener, slow to anger, politically liberal, and sensitive in all ways to injustice. In other words, the liberated man is touchy-feely. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it is problematic that the identity of men involved in anti-violence work is so rigidly constructed, or worse, that it is constructed in opposition to the stereotypically “manly man.” This is the type of man found in commercials for trucks or beer, or in men's interest magazines. These are men who are physically tough and emotionally distant: sports fans, laborers, or men with a lot of money and power. According to these media images, men by nature aren't sensitive. In contradistinction, then, men in the anti-violence movement aren't manly.

CMAV and the Columbia Men's Peer Education Program are well aware of this issue. When we talk about involving more men in the struggle against violence, a constant sticking point is how to recruit without creating a rift between ourselves and our male audience. We often get caught up, for instance, in discussions of the language we use to talk about anti-violence. I understand the importance of these discussions; I used to stop listening when people used words like “patriarchy.” However, the issue is deeper than questions of language. What we need to address is how the rhetoric of agency, a central part of feminist thought, fails to provide the same support for agency in men's decisions.

Agency, in the view of organizations like Take Back The Night, is about women being able to wear what they want, go where they want, and act how they want. It's a retort to sexist statements like, “She was asking for it by wearing that skirt or going to that neighborhood.” By extension, it's also about how, in theory, it is equally valid for a woman to be a CEO or a housewife. It's about how a woman can be as typically feminine or as outrageously queer as she wants to be. I was discussing the concept with a friend of mine, and she added that in our fantasy feminist world, agency means not only that a woman can do whatever she wants, but that someone will be there to celebrate her decisions.

For men, on the other hand, from the standpoint of anti-violence work, it can seem like supporting the institutions of masculinity is somehow equivalent to supporting patriarchy. Indeed, the way we define masculinity in society is often tied to patriarchy. The military and pop culture, for example, both produce examples of masculinity and function as tools of a male-dominated society. But does that necessarily mean that all men are oppressors? Or that by choosing to be masculine men, we are choosing to be oppressors? In anti-violence work, we are discouraged from “typical” modes of masculine behavior, such as a love of football or violent video games. While a woman who bucks “feminine” stereotypes and enjoys masculine hobbies is seen as modern, men who engage in these same hobbies risk being seen as sexist, thick-headed, or irrationally violent. This prejudice against “typical” male behavior is not useful, and despite years of working with Greeks and student athletes, anti-violence organizations such as CMAV have yet to overcome it.

I don't wish to lend credence to the misconception that the feminist anti-violence movement has some sort of man-hating agenda. Since the beginning of modern feminism, educators and activists have argued that men are essential to the achievement of justice in our communities. They have insisted that feminism is a men's movement, too. The growing number of men actively involved in education and anti-violence work attests to the increasing understanding that sexual violence is everyone's problem.

The men who are involved with anti-violence work have the unique opportunity and duty to influence other men, but we must be careful to avoid an adversarial attitude. Yes, it is important to change the way men think. It is important to show them that sexism, racism, homophobia, and violence affect everyone. However, it is also important to give men the option to be both anti-rape and to play GTA3, to deconstruct machismo but to still love the Giants, or to march in Take Back The Night and, god forbid, to vote Republican.